


where women come and go

by thewhitebirds



Series: stories of the black family [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coffee Shops, F/M, Gen, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhitebirds/pseuds/thewhitebirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa knows that time passes so quickly, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	where women come and go

**1959.**

"What a beautiful daughter you have, Mrs Black," the waitress smiles as she leads them to a table." Druella sighs a bit. "Yes. My third daughter." Narcissa is too busy examining the petit fours and the china, delicate with roses, to pay attention to her mother's words. She is four years old and having tea with Mama and everything is _perfect_.   
  
**1967.**

Sirius is sulking and drinking his tea with his pinkie out sarcastically, but Narcissa couldn't care less. It doesn't matter that none of her siblings or cousins particularly want to be here, nibbling on cucumber sandwiches-- _she_ is the one leaving for school, after all, and when Sirius goes she supposes they will all have to endure eating fish and chips from newspaper. "It will be _so nice_ to have you with us, Cissy," Bella says. Andromeda presses her lips together with annoyance as she tends to a lot these days, but Narcissa does not want to see that. There is no tension if she does not look for it. She smiles, and passes the crumpets to Regulus. "I _will_ be home for Christmas, Regulus, you know."  
  
 **1976.**

"Stop, Narcissa," Cygnus catches her wrist lightly, and sets down his own teacup. "Stop what, Papa?" She's laughing; it isn't an innocent smile at all. "Waving your left hand around. I see your ring and I admire it immensly, but you will tire your wrist." smiles, looking down at her hand. The weight of the diamond has subsided entirely, and the flourishing has become purely accidental. "I am so happy." He smiles, and passes her the petit fours. "I know. I feel like an old man, with both of my daughters leaving me."   
  
**1980.**

Draco gurgles from the pram. "Look at my nephew," Bella coos in her velvety voice. "That is our future right there, Cissy. _This_ is what we fight for." Narcissa does not know whether Bellatrix is brave or foolish for speaking so plainly, and instead leans down to touch her baby's soft cheek. "Regulus would have been a good godfather, you know. And Papa would have loved him." The loss has been so great. "I know," Bellatrix replies, her dark expression a strange contrast with rose china. "We are so close to winning, though." Narcissa nods and smiles, but Bella has been saying this for _years_ and maybe she is wrong. The waitress offers them a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , but both both women shake their heads. The war is all around them; why read about it?  
  
 **1982.**

"Perhaps it was unwise to bring a toddler here," Lucius remaks drily as Draco totters around the table on his small legs. "Of course not," Narcissa laughs, scooping their son up on her lap and covering his blonde head with kisses. "He is our little gentleman." They sip tea and talk of other things, and Lucius accepts the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from the waiter. There are no headlines anymore, no war, no Cygnus, no Bellatrix, no Sirius, no Andromeda, no Reggie. "Cake!" Draco demands, and Narcissa laughs a little and gives him some. Time passes so quickly, after all.  
  
 **1991.**

"Oh, _Mother_." Apparently eleven year old boys do not wish to take tea with their mothers anymore, Narcissa thinks gloomily to herself. "But you are almost done with shopping, dearheart, except robes." She suddenly wishes this wasn't happening, that she could owl Hogwarts or beg Lucius to delay this for a year, to keep her baby at home. "Well," Draco begins with a sly expression, "If I have tea with you, can I go to Madam Malkin's alone?" Everything has become a bargain with him these days. "I suppose," she says as he reaches for the cake. "I _will_ be home for Christmas, Mother, you know."  
  
 **1997.**

The air is frigidly cold outside as Narcissa steps inside, and she is relieved that it is the same, that they still serve tea in china cups with roses on them. Then she hears the whispers. It has been four months, and they have not forgotten. _"Her husband"_ , they murmur gleefully, and _"Conviction"_. The Malfoy name means nothing now, Narcissa realises, and leaves the shop with her head up, spots of colour burning on her cheeks. That day she takes tea alone in the study, and tries to ignore the voices of the strangers who have taken over her beautiful home.  
  
 **2026.**

Narcissa looks at her hands as she waits for the tea to come. They have more lines than before, and the diamonds sparkle harshly against her soft skin. She really should be at home, she knows. There are caterers and florists to supervise, and she wants to look at the jewelry Lucius gave her again. Fifty years. It _is_ a rather big anniversary. Draco and Astoria will be arriving at the Manor with Scorpius any moment, and as much as she wants to see them, a few moments of solitude are lovely. Lucius can entertain them for a bit.  
  
The waitress comes with the tea, and Narcissa is surprised to see that they have replaced the china rose cups with modern ones; black and steel. The waitress swallows nervously. "Mrs Malfoy, we have an old set in the back if you'd rather..." Narcissa thinks for a moment. "No, that is quite alright." Perhaps it was time for a change.  



End file.
